


Erosion

by theshizniiit



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Depression, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2502857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshizniiit/pseuds/theshizniiit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from tumblr: " I think i remember something about the DRNs not being able to cope with the stress of the job and taking their lives? can i get a fic about Dorian going down that road and john saving him?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erosion

Dorian notices it, eventually.

The feeling that something has changed, even though he’s not quite sure what. The feeling of emptiness expanding and filling his very being, until there’s no room left for anything else. Things are dimmer, somehow. Everything is muted and he doesn’t feel things like he did before. He’s either constantly, mind-numbingly bored, or restless, or apathetic. He’s way too aware of his body. He feels like he’s taking up too much space, and his skin doesn’t sit right. He finds himself clenching his eyes shut and balling his hands into fists and just trying to  _focus_ , when no one is looking. He catches himself staring into space more often, staring at nothing, mind going blank. He’s tired, he realizes one day, eyes slipping shut and processors slowing. He’s just empty, all of sudden. And hollow. And he’s just so  _bored._

It gets to a point where he can’t even open his eyes immediately when he wakes up in his charging pod. He keeps his eyes closed, not because he wants to, but because he can’t muster the strength or energy to open them.

His eyelids feel like sandpaper when he finally does. And when he finally has his eyes open, his frying circuits are screaming at him to just go back into charging mode and forget about every responsibility he ever had. His finger twitch listlessly, and his head lolls a bit.

He feels dead.

Every single day he wakes up, it feels like the day has already thrown itself under a bus and died and it hasn’t even started yet.

His eyelids droop.

His body is sluggish and his limbs feel too heavy as he wrestles himself into his clothes. He’s somehow both hyper aware of his body and able to feel every molecule that makes up his skin, but somehow so detached that his arm could be missing and Dorian doubts he would even notice. He can feel every mechanical device that keeps him alive whirring and clunking inside his body it’s making him anxious and restless and he’s itching for  _something_ -

Nothing interests him anymore. Not even his job.

He used to love being a cop. Helping people, seeing their grateful faces as they thanked him and the pride of knowing he did a good job. That he  _saved_  a life. Now he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore, or if he even wants anything, other than to stop waking up.

He does what he has to, but he can’t find it in himself to put his heart in it anymore. No matter what he does there will still be crime and horrible people getting away with horrible things. He’s just a machine. No better than a toaster, an old model that no one wants, not even John.

He has no control over himself or his life. He doesn’t belong to himself. He can’t choose to take the day off and go see a movie, or get a tattoo or buy a dog or kiss someone. He can’t do anything. He’s property. And the powers that be can just kill him whenever they want. Whenever its convenient for them. But he can control how he dies. And when. 

He can force his end. He can control _something._

Like John said, he’s just silicon and carbon fiber. So why is he even fighting so hard for a world that doesn’t want or need him?

Why even care?

The DRN realizes he doesn’t. Not anymore.

And its that thought that sets off a series of unfortunate events leading up to John finding him with a gun in his mouth and his finger on the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> This was such a sad prompt that when I saw it I was like "Noooooo that's so sad............I'll do it."  
> So I basically just described how my depression affects me and tacked it on to Dorian.  
> I think a part 2 might be in order. But with a happy ending, maybe?


End file.
